Travel Letters

My friend Howie S. sent this letter and photographs to me and to all his friends after he paid a brief, but fulfilling visit to Bangkok

Jan

…………………………………………………………………..

Bangkok

Thailand

March 24, 2019

Dear Friends,

After I left Bangkok in July 1999, I vowed I would never return.

Bangkok was one of the most frightening places I had ever visited, so much so, that my traveling companion Howard, who is visually challenged, held on to my arm so tightly that my circulation almost stopped.

Everywhere we went people were intercepting us, pointing to the direction we were going and telling us not to go there: it was too dangerous.

Older than the Himalayas, the Tenasserim Hills are a mountain chain that begins in Northern Thailand. They provide a long line of demarcation between Thailand and Myanmar. They form a spine on the Malay Peninsula, and end in the south near Singapore.

The hills are covered with evergreen jungle forests. A large variety of jungle creatures call the hills home.

Apparently, the hills also contain coal, tin and tungsten. And logs.

On the north-south road running parallel to the Tenasserim Hills, Jenjira and I stop at the “rock shops” that feature huge creative carvings and “modern” sculptures.

On a holiday weekend, the Erawan National Park is a favorite for Thai families and groups of friends. (Erawan is the Thai word that refers to the Hindu mythAiravata or Airawana in Sanskrit.)

Children of all ages swim in the natural pools beneath the many waterfalls, young adults climb the seven levels of the steep walkways to the top of the mountain, and family groups relax and spread out their picnic lunch.

My girlfriend Jenjira (Ooy) and I climb the steps to pay our respects to a tall standing Buddha inside the Pathom Ma Chedi. At 120 meters (394 feet), the bell-shaped Chedi or stupa is the tallest stupa in Thailand.

Thai people are here to pray. Young couples pray for fertility. Lovely aromas of lotus flowers and burning incense fill the air.

Kampong Thom may be a small city. But it’s also a city of lively contrasts.

A constant flow of determined traffic crosses the steel arch bridge that spans the Steung Saen River. In the shadow of the bridge, a lone fisherman silently casts his net from a tiny wooden boat.

The traffic across the bridge is brisk. Vehicles vary in size and speed. Yet without the assistance of traffic lights at the four-way intersections, the trucks, buses, cars, vans, and motorbikes sort themselves out, effortlessly, courteously and safely.